


Taking Stormfront

by dragonlover



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Finale, Battle, Butcher does his usual swears, Disturbing POV, Gen, Racist Character, Sexual Humiliation, but because it makes sense in the scene, not because I'm horny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonlover/pseuds/dragonlover
Summary: Stormfront is just minding her own business when Antifa terrorists--who hate that she speaks the truth--attack her like the savages they are. (The Boys enact a plan to take out Stormfront, in an alternate version of the season two finale. Thoughts from the bad guy's POV are in no way an endorsement of such beliefs.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Don't Be Stupid, Be a Smartie

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone else think that they depowered Stormfront in the season two finale after playing up how strong she was? Homelander’s heat vision can barely sizzle a tiny patch of her skin but Ryan completely fries her the first time he uses his? No, you’d need a hell of a lot more firepower to take out the Stormfront who treats heat vision like a sex toy. This is my version of the ultimate battle we should have gotten.
> 
> (I find Stormfront a compelling villain, but just so we’re clear, fuck Nazis.)

Stormfront pursed her lips as she applied her lipstick, watching in the mirror as she covered her naturally pink lips with a color as dark as her hair. The contrast with her lovely pale skin was stark, just the way she liked it. It was striking, moving, like a rolling storm cloud ready to let loose its natural fury.

Of course, she thought with a bit of annoyance, she would have preferred to have been born with blonde locks exemplifying the perfection of the Aryan race. It was a long-held point of contention with her genetic makeup. That was why it infuriated her to see Starlight waste that blessing of her birth to betray her own people and lie down with dogs… Tense, her hand jerked and streaked lipstick across her cheek.

Ah, shit! She grabbed a tissue, wiped up the excess, and finished painting her lips, giving them a smack. Oh, but now her foundation was all fucked up.

Grimacing, she reapplied it. She needed to look good for the rally she was holding. The aesthetic was important, to make the men want to have her and the women want to be her. She’d snag most of her male followers just through looking hot. Apolitical men would tune in to ogle her, and she’d just ask questions that would resonate with them. They’d get involved, and she’d have them eating out of the palm of her hand in no time flat.

Things were moving. After so much time, so much planning, the pieces were falling into place. President Homelander and First Lady Stormfront were inevitable, and then things would  _ really _ get going. Heil Vought. Heil America.

Oh, what she would do to Starlight _then_. The little bitch squandered what God gave her, and Stormfront would make sure Starlight regretted every single moment of it. She’d elicit apology after apology but that wouldn’t stop her from applying the old tortures, the really fun ones. Yeah, she’d roll out the race traitor’s intestines on a spiked wheel while keeping her conscious and make her beg Stormfront to kill everyone she showed the slightest bit of affection for in front of her eyes. Make her beg  _ politely _ … 

And now she was horny.

It was a shame Homelander was out fighting superterrorists, or she might want to hit him up for a quickie before the rally. Aw, well, the yearning would help her performance. Her lust would come out in her thirst for America to get a hold of itself and recognize the danger at hand. With any luck, Homelander would likewise get horny, and they could have the rough sex only Übermenschen like them could survive.

Damn, talk about Aryan  _ perfection _ … 

She was broken from her reverie by a high-pitched ringing. It didn’t sound like a phone… It wasn’t until the tone changed and other notes were added that she recognized it as violin music. Familiar violin music.

Smiling, she realized it was an old classic:  _ Ritt der Walküren _ , Wagner. A favorite of hers, a stimulating Party song… Yes, a famous Nazi Party song.

The smile vanished. Why was it playing? Was someone trying to get a rise out of her? Was it Starlight?

Spandex gloves squeaked as she clenched her fists. She walked over to the door, ready to give Starlight a taste of her own blood, but no… The music was quieter here. It wasn’t coming from the hall, so where…?

She looked to where it seemed loudest, away from the door, toward the windows…

The sudden roar of helicopter rotors threatened to drown out the music, but it still blasted out from a row of stereo speakers strapped to the side of the dark military chopper that rose into view outside the tower. It looked formidable in itself as an instrument of war, but it was also decked out with a series of weapons and random pieces of equipment grafted onto it, giving it a  _ Mad Max _ punk look that might have intimidated someone inferior to her.

She squinted, analyzing the threat. Two missiles, two miniguns, stereo equipment… hoses? Spearguns? It looked… human. Pedestrian. Weak.

“Hey, Nazi cunt!” It was the voice of William Butcher, carried over the music. “Knock, knock.”

One of the missiles exploded into action, streaking off from the chopper toward her room. The Vought Tower windows were built with reinforced bulletproof glass capable of withstanding a sniper rifle round even at close range, but even they couldn’t withstand a missile. She had less than a second to get ready, crouching and turning her face away just as the windows burst inward in a torrent of glass shards and fire.

“Arrgh!” She pitched forward as hot shrapnel slammed into her, ripping her skin apart in a million lacerations. God, that  _ stung _ !

Always, the Barbarians at the gates. The savages who were envious of her racial superiority always wanted to tear her down. But she would tear them down. And asunder.

Standing, she brushed the soot and pieces of glass from her rapidly healing flesh and turned to face the attacker.

The helicopter hovered in place, the music still blaring from its speakers. Psychological warfare? With Nazi music? Against  _ her _ ? Puh-leaze!

“Da-dada-dada, DA-DADA-DADA,” she sang along with it as she swaggered forward. “That the best you got, Butcher?”

A minigun opened fire, bullets lancing into her in a violent hailstorm. Yeah, that was fine with her. Let him use up his ammo.

The worse the attack looked, the better she could spin it when Vought News interviewed her after. Innocent little her, brutalized by Antifa terrorists? Why, that’d be enough to give her a Gestapo of her very own.

She gritted her teeth. It was painful… but in a way she was kinda into… She was already horny. Maybe she’d get off on this fight. Maybe Butcher would make her cum before she ripped out his spine. That would  _ really _ put her in the mood for the night’s romp with Homelander.

Finally, the volley stopped. She took a breath as bullets popped out of her healing wounds and clattered to the floor around her. “Aw, that gun all out of ammo?”

The helicopter turned, reorienting to hit her with a blast from another weapon, but she was tired of that game. Enough sympathies would be with her by now. Time to show her strength.

She let the electricity flow through her body and smiled sweetly at her attacker. “My turn.”


	2. Come Subvert the Nazi Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way I see it, Stormfront is like Godzilla. You need a ton of firepower and some very careful coordination to have a chance to take her out.

Before Stormfront could attack, Butcher struck out. White liquid shot from a hose mounted on the chopper, spraying directly toward her. “Take it, bitch!”

Gross. She sidestepped the blast and let it splatter on the wall behind her. He was clearly a misogynist. That would be useful to her spin.

For now, she leaped into flight and circled behind the chopper. He tried to turn to attack, but she kept behind the tail. That was the difference between them: she had power, and he needed a vehicle.

She reached out and grabbed the tail at its base. The machine pulled away from her, but she exerted enough force to hold it still. Butcher must have figured out she was impeding his craft’s movement because it suddenly bucked in her hand, jerking hard in an attempt to get away.

If she wanted to, she could attack it now. But she wanted him to worry. She just held it in place as it shuddered. When her appetite was sufficiently whetted, she struck, twisting the metal until it tore. Ripping the tail off, she tossed it aside, uncaring about what was beneath her.

Free of its stabilizing rotor, the helicopter started to wildly spin. When it turned 180 degrees, she dropped onto the windshield and smiled at Butcher inside. 

He glared at her.

Holding up her index finger, she lightly prodded the glass, poking a hole in it. She pointed at him and let a charge build, preparing to fry him. Electrical sparks flew from the sides of her finger as one hell of a lightning bolt grew in her arm.

Even Butcher knew when his time was up. He silently fumed and waited from his position of impotence. So pathetic.

She tilted her head in mock pity, pursing her lips. Ah, well, time for him to die. She released the energy…

And it was pulled out of her. It wasn’t directed forward into Butcher. Her electricity was just gone, all of it.

Enraged, she ripped the windshield off and snarled at him. “What the fuck did you do to me?!”

“What’s the matter, cunt?” he spat. “Having trouble performing? It happens to a lot of people your age.”

“Misogynist prick!” she seethed. Lightning wasn’t necessary to crush the life from him… 

“Aw, c’mon, love.” He shook his head, smiling. “No one likes a feminazi.”

Snatching her hand out, she grabbed his greasy skull and squeezed just hard enough to cause pain. She repeated her question, “What did you do to my lightning?”

“That’d be her,” he answered.

She narrowed her eyes. Her? Who…?

With a jolt, the helicopter stopped spinning, leaving it facing away from the tower. It couldn’t do that on its own, which meant another superhero entered the fight, most likely from the tower. That pointed at a member of the Seven. Shit.

She wanted to savor Butcher’s death, so she released him for now and moved to get a better look. Her flight was enabled by manipulating electricity, so she had to use her muscles until she could get it back. She jumped up, letting the rotor blades harmlessly bounce off of her, and did a somersault into the cavernous gap that was her room. Yeah, she would definitely need to move after the fight.

Landing, she turned to see Starlight, lit up like a firefly, hanging off the side of the building with one hand grasping a fin of the remaining missile attached to the helicopter. Oh, her. She stole Stormfront’s lightning!

She cracked her knuckles. Time to break a bitch in half. Deliberately, she strode forward.

Starlight swung the helicopter toward Stormfront like a bludgeon. Seeing it coming a mile away, she raised her arm to block it. The impact caused the helicopter to turn and slide behind her, blades scraping the ceiling and showering the area with sparks as it settled to a stop.

Butcher was quick to recover. A spear shot at her.

She knocked it away. Stupid. This wasn’t worth her time. Starlight had her attention, and she turned away from the disabled helicopter.

White liquid exploded from another hose, and this time, she wasn’t paying enough attention to dodge until it splattered over her clothes. She danced away but was still marked by it. Fortunately, judging from the smell, it was only paint. Nothing, uh, grosser than that. Knowing him, it certainly could have been.

“You like that, cunt?” Butcher called. “It’s nice and fashy, just like you. Paint infused with iron oxide and aluminum, the same shit you Jerries coated the Hindenburg with.”

She glanced at the paint on her glove. This was zeppelin paint?

“It’s basically rocket fuel,” Starlight explained. “Just add a spark, and it’s ‘Oh, the humanity.’”

A spark… like the electricity Starlight stole from her. Understanding what Starlight intended to do to her, Stormfront lunged at her to kill her before she could.

Starlight glowed like a spotlight and held out her hands, striking Stormfront with her own stolen electricity. The paint ignited, blasting her with fire over 4,000 degrees Fahrenheit. Even an Übermensch would feel that.

Letting out a scream of pure agony, Stormfront flailed around, trying desperately to scrape off the paint. It wasn’t working! Abandoning her pride and all modesty, she stripped the lit paint-covered clothes from her body and tossed them away from her, lighting up nearby flammable debris. Tears of relief flowed from her eyes, soon joined by water from the sprinklers that went off when the fire spread across the floor.

“Figured you’d be an exhibitionist,” Butcher crowed. “I can see your Nazi cunt, Nazi cunt.”

She angrily blinked the tears away. “I’m going to rip you both apart. They won’t be able to recognize you when I’m through.”

The first priority was to kill Starlight and get her lightning back. Without the paint on her body, Starlight wouldn’t be able to hurt her nearly as badly, so Stormfront stalked toward Starlight without concern for the brightening glow from her hands.

Starlight zapped Stormfront, and it was nothing compared to what she just endured. It was pathetic. At most, it kind of turned her on.

Nervous, Starlight took a few steps back. Oh, but she had nowhere to run. Stormfront was coming to kill her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Beside Stormfront, the paint-coated wall caught fire. Tongues of superheated flame shot out and caught her naked skin. Shrieking, she jumped back and slapped at her singed flesh.

“Turn me about!” Butcher shouted over the fiery roar. “Point me at her!”

Starlight took advantage of Stormfront’s distraction and ran past her toward the grounded chopper. Stormfront tried to reach out and grab her, but she recovered too late, and Starlight slipped by her like the little weasel she was.

Stormfront started to give chase but stopped when she saw Starlight near the helicopter, wary of the zeppelin paint it threatened to spray at her. She wouldn’t reach Starlight before she moved the helicopter and its hoses to point at her. Normally, Stormfront would just zap Starlight, but without her lightning, she was fucked.

So, in spite of her pride and anger, she chose the route of least pain and ran for the door. It would be humiliating to be caught nude, but she would have to stomach it, play up the story about Antifa terrorists, and kill them both later.

“No, wait!” she heard Starlight shout. “Don’t! Butcher!”

Stormfront turned just in time to register the rocket flying toward her face.

**Author's Note:**

> Does this make you eager to fight Nazis? Consider donating to RAICES and/or Black Lives Matter and--if you're American--voting for Biden to eject our Nazi-loving president from the White House. Never again is now.
> 
> https://www.raicestexas.org/ways-to-give/
> 
> https://lectureinprogress.com/journal/resources-for-supporting-black-lives-matter-movement


End file.
